Dream a Little Dream
by abercrombieprep
Summary: Isn't it wonderful now?


**Title- **_Dream a Little Dream_

**Author- **abercrombieprep__

**Rating- **PG-13 for language and violent themes

**Ship- **S/V in a strange, twisted way

**Spoilers- **Everything up to 'The Nemesis' is game

**Lyrics- **"Wonderful", Everclear

**Distribution- **sd-1, fanfiction, CM, anything else… e-mail me

**Disclaimer- **I don't own Alias. Or the characters. So don't sue me, because I haven't the money to pay you!

**Author's Notes- **This story was based right after 'The Nemesis', and was written for the January challenge on SD-1 (requirements: angst, but no death). Lots of love and devotion went into this story, so please review and tell me what you think! That purple button loves you! Give it a little tickle.  

**Dream a Little Dream**  
  
  
_Close my eyes when I go to bed and I  
Dream of adventures that make me smile_  
  
  
The lights woke her up. Bright, white, sterile. Piercing. White everywhere.   
  


  
_Whitewallswhitefloorwhiteceilingwhitebedwhitesheetswhitefacewhitewhitewhite_  
  


  
She moaned a little, and stuffed her face into the white pillow, wishing for another five minutes of sleep. However, she could barely move her neck without an electric shock of pain reverberating throughout her entire body. She tried to remember where she was, but she couldn't remember anything but the piercing white light now burned into her mind, and the dull purple glow of an afterimage it left behind.   
  


  
She tried to stand, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, but soon realized that they were tied to the end of the white metal bed. Sydney Bristow was, essentially, trapped.  
  


  
She laid her head back against the pillow again and closed her eyes, trying to think of where she was.   
  


  
_Rain.Allison.Fight.Vaughn.Hotel.Running.Gone.Blood.Ambulance.Sofia.Table.Gun.Francie.Empty._  
  


  
She sat up suddenly. She and Vaughn must have been captured. It would explain the ankle cuffs and the bright lights. As she was about to lay her head back down and await the imminent torture, the white door in the corner of the room opened and an older woman entered with a cart.  
  


  
"Good morning Miss Bristow. How are you feeling today?" she cheerfully asked.  
  


  
"Who are you?"   
  


  
The woman shook her head a little. "They had to use a tranquilizer on you again, did they? I'm Nurse Mary, darling."  
  


  
Sydney stared at the nurse for a moment as she opened several hotplates of food. "Who do you work for?"  
  


  
"Crestwood Manor, darling."  
  


  
"I'm sure. Why are you holding me here?"  
  


  
"We're not holding you, Sydney. We're simply rehabilitating you. Now, eat your breakfast and we'll get you a shower, and then you can go out and spend some time in the garden, all right? Your first appointment isn't until one thirty, so you should have plenty of time to water your roses," the nurse said, as she turned and began to walk to the door. "And do remember to drink all of your milk today. You need all the calcium you can get, darling."  
  


  
The door slammed closed after the nurse and Sydney was left all alone in the little white room.   
  


  
  
--  
  


She didn't touch her breakfast, but she did get up and take a shower. She stood erect as the water ran over her, listening for any sound that would alert her to her capturer's arrival. She expected they would come soon, bearing their questions and threats of torture.   
  


  
After standing in the water until her fingers were well pruned, she got out and turned off the water, drying off quickly and pulling on the white gown she had been wearing. As she started to towel dry her hair, there was a knock at the door.  
  


  
"Miss Bristow? Miss Bristow you didn't eat your breakfast," the voice on the other side of the door said. The muffled voice did not represent Mary's, and she couldn't place it with anyone else she knew.  
  


  
"I just… wasn't hungry!" Sydney shouted back, trying to dry her hair even faster so she could open the door to find out who was on the other side.  
  


  
"Sydney, you know the rules. You must eat all of your meals. Please come out and finish your breakfast."  
  


  
Sydney flung open the door and a tall, overweight woman gave her a bright smile.  
  


  
"Good morning, Miss Bristow! Would you like me to warm up your food again?"  
  


  
"No, thank you," Sydney grumbled, situating herself at the edge of the bed and taking a huge bite of her eggs, hoping that the woman would take the message and leave.   
  


  
"Your roses are looking lovely, sweetheart. So big and bright, I'm sure you're very proud of them," the nurse said, dusting a thread off of her white nurse's jacket.   
  


  
Sydney nodded, while carefully taking in her surroundings. Whoever was holding her was taking extreme amounts of care to make her believe she was actually in a hospital. The room held the distinct smell of rubber and disinfectant, it was clean, too clean almost, and the bathroom had a wheelchair railing. The nurses, or what appear to be nurses, were wearing their standard jacket and baggy pants. Mary was even wearing the standard green pants that most nurses wore.  
  


  
Yes, someone was most certainly trying to play with her mind. Her enemy list was long, but the enemies willing to go this far just to get back at her? Sparse. Sark, maybe. Her mother, possibly. Perhaps Allison. But most likely it was Sloane. He had the resources, the need for revenge and the complete lack of morals. It was then, when Sydney had decided that it must be Sloane holding her hostage, that she noticed that the nurse was speaking to her.  
  


  
"Sydney… Sydney." Sydney looked up at the nurse. "I was just saying that if you want, we'll move you back to your room now."  
  


  
Sydney stared at the woman, wondering what she was supposed to say. No, she didn't want to go to her room. For all she knew the room this supposed nurse was talking about was an interrogation room filled with torture devices. At least that was what the logical part of her mind was telling her. But the illogical part of her mind, the part she liked to call her heart, was screaming at her to go. She had to find Vaughn, and it would only be to her benefit to see as much of the facility she was being held in before she formulated an escape.  
  


  
"If it helps you make up your mind, Melanie has been missing you."  
  


  
Melanie. The nurse had spoken the name in such a way that Sydney assumed that there she was familiar with her. A cell mate? A torturer?   
  


  
Sydney nodded her head. "Yes, I'm ready to go back."  
  


  
She follows the nurse out of the room, eyes darting up, down, around, taking in all of the sights available, mapping all of the hallways and corridors. The large windows throughout the hallways look out into a large courtyard, filled with bright flowers and benches.   
  


  
And people.   
  


  
People who were not bruised and battered. People who were playing checkers, people who were watering flowers. People who were merely sitting.  
  


  
Suddenly she was dizzy. Perhaps Nurse Mary was serious. Maybe she was in a hospital.   
  


  
"What happened to me?" she asked.  
  


  
The nurse stopped and turned around, looking into Sydney's eyes deeply. "I think it would be best if I left that up to your doctor to tell you. You'll be seeing her soon."  
  


  
Sydney felt her stomach drop. "Is Vaughn all right? And my father… is he okay too?"  
  


  
"Sydney, save your questions for your doctor. I'm not allowed to answer them."  
  


  
"What are you allowed to tell me?" Sydney questioned, her voice rising several decibels.   
  


  
The nurse put her finger to her lips. "Sydney, please follow the rules while you're at the manor. If you have concerns, address them to the proper authority. And right now, that's not me."  
  


  
Sydney nodded absently. A clock in the hallway read eleven fifty-two. Only a little over an hour and a half until she could speak to her doctor and clear this mess up. Hopefully, in two hours she'd be released from this place and she could make her way back to L.A.  
  


  
They continued walking, Sydney staring at the doors on the right side of the hallway, each covered in cards, balloons and pictures. In the center of the collage of items was a white sheet with names on it.   
  


  
_Sarah.Jane.Jennifer.Amy.Hannah.Rachel.Christine.Kim.Stephanie.Brenda.Monique.Gail._  
  


  
The women's wing, she assumed, or a women's hospital.   
  


  
The nurse stopped at door number 213 and knocked. The door was covered with pictures of a young woman with jet black hair and a wide smile, letters to both Melanie and herself, and cards wishing both women to get well soon. Buried deep beneath the pictures was a small sign that had 'Melanie Banks and Sydney Bristow' written on it in script. Underneath in a small, tiny font were two code numbers.  
  


  
The door opened a crack and then shut. It opened a crack more the second time before shutting again.   
  


  
The nurse shook her head. "Melanie, please open the door completely."  
  


  
"One second!" came a reply as the door opened a few inches more and closed. Suddenly, the door flew open to reveal the same girl that was in many of the pictures, with the same bright smile.   
  


  
"Sydney!" she squealed, running and giving Sydney a giant hug. She stepped back and wiped her hands on her jeans once, twice and again a third time. Then she looked up. "I've missed you so much! It just hasn't been the same without you."  
  


  
"I've missed you to," Sydney replied, her voice lacking conviction. Melanie, however, didn't seem to notice.   
  


  
"I watered your flowers for you yesterday, because you didn't come back from your appointment. I hope they don't die," Melanie said. She couldn't have been much more than twenty five, and she seemed eager and alert.  
  


  
"Sydney didn't respond too well to her last treatment," the nurse said, directing her attention to Melanie. "If she seems a little disoriented, it's okay. She has an appointment in an hour and a half with Doctor Walters. We'll get it all cleared up there."  
  


  
Melanie shook her head. "That's fine Anne, I'm sure we can handle it." She gave her a charming smile. Sydney did the same. "Before you go, what's for lunch?"  
  


  
"I think you're having spaghetti today," the nurse said before turning around and walking down the hallway.  
  


  
"So," said Melanie, "what happened?"  
  


  
Sydney followed her into the pale green room. "I don't really know…" Sydney stared in wonder as Melanie shut the door three times before turning around.  
  


  
"Well, what don't you know?"  
  


  
Sydney looked down at the ground. She wasn't sure if she should be telling her this or not, but she wanted answers. "Everything. I woke up and I didn't know where I was or what I was doing here."  
  


  
The woman blinked. "Oh wow. Well, I know that's not common, but I suppose it can happen, with all of your treatments. I guess you're just special, or something like that. Do you feel fine otherwise?"  
  


  
"My head kind of hurts, but I'm okay. What kind of hospital is this, anyway?"  
  


  
"It's not a hospital Sydney, it's a rehabilitation center," Melanie said patronizingly.  
  


  
"Rehabilitation for what?" Sydney twisted her legs around. "I feel fine."  
  


  
Melanie stared at her with a strange look and patted the end of the bed three times. Sydney sat down, slightly afraid of what Melanie could tell her.  
  


  
Melanie sighed. "Sydney, Crestwood Manor is a women's mental rehabilitation center."   
  


  
She stared at her for a few seconds. "But… I'm not crazy… I don't mean crazy, but I don't need mental help. I'm fine!"  
  


  
Melanie laughed, apparently not upset by the fact that Sydney had just insinuated that she was crazy. She placed her hands reassuringly on Sydney's. "I know, Sydney. That's exactly what I thought when I came here. I'm not crazy. Sure, I have my quirks, like everyone else. But I'm definitely _not_ crazy. Right? But now I understand. I was in _denial_, Sydney. I needed help and I couldn't see it, but now I can. And they help me here."  
  


  
Sydney stood up and paced the room. "But I'm not in denial, I don't need help and there isn't anything wrong with me. I'm just normal old me. Sydney."  
  


  
Melanie stood up too. "I'm not going to try to tell you you're wrong. Talk it over with your doctor when you see her. Until then, do you want to go get some lunch?"  
  


  
She nodded, not really caring what she did until one thirty. She followed Melanie down the halls to a cafeteria filled with women of all ages, some talking animatedly to each other, some sitting alone and reading and others simply staring off into space.   
  


  
After getting their meals Melanie and Sydney wandered over to a table next to the large windows that let in warm sunlight. They ate in silence, Sydney's eyes taking in every person, trying to categorize their mental issues. She only looked up when someone tapped her shoulder.   
  


  
Anne smiled down at Sydney. "I'm going to take you to your appointment, if you're ready."  
  


  
"Yes, I'm definitely ready," Sydney replied, picking up her bowl and tray and dumping them in a trash can nearby.   
  


  
Sydney followed Anne out of the cafeteria and down a set of stairs to the basement floor. This floor was painted a bright yellow and each of the doors held name tags on them, much like a hotel. There was a laundry room, an exercise room and a library. Further down, however, the door tags began to contain names and professions.   
  


  
_162. Dr. Kathleen Walters, MD_  
  


  
Anne knocked on the door and gave Sydney a reassuring smile.  
  


  
The door opened to reveal a tall woman with dark brown hair. "Hello Sydney, come on in. I hear you've been having some problems, yes?"   
  


  
Sydney nodded her head.   
  


  
"Well, come on in, have a seat and I'll see what I can do," Dr. Walters said, offering a bright smile. She turned to the nurse, "Thank you, Anne. I'll call you when Sydney is ready to go back to her room."  
  


  
Sydney entered the room and took a seat on the brown leather couch, seated directly across from a high-backed green chair that she assumed was the doctor's. A thick manila folder with _Bristow, Sydney Alexandra_ written in bold red at the top.   
  


  
The doctor closed the door and sat down in the leather seat and looked up at Sydney. "I hear you're having some memory loss? Tell me about what you remember last."  
  


  
"The last thing I remember, _Doctor_, is chasing after Allison Doren in Sofia. So, unless during the time that I can remember and the time that it is now I've developed a mental disorder, I see no reason to be sitting here," Sydney said belligerently. She hoped that cutting to the chase would make the doctor realize there was absolutely no reason for her to be here.   
  


  
The doctor grabbed the folder and began to scribble things down on the inside flap. "And why were you chasing Allison, Sydney?"  
  


  
"Because Allison is evil. She had something the CIA needed, we went to get it," she replied flippantly.  
  


  
"We? Who else was with you?"  
  


  
"Excuse me doctor, but I really don't see why this is necessary. I'm perfectly sane."  
  


  
The doctor looked her directly in the eye. "Please answer the question, Sydney. I need to know what you remember so that I can do my job, okay?"  
  


  
"Vaughn. Vaughn and I went to Sofia together."  
  


  
Dr. Walters smiled. "So you're telling me that the last thing you remember is your fight with Allison, and then you woke up here with no recollection of anything else?"  
  


  
"Exactly."  
  


  
The doctor's smile faded away and she sighed. "I suppose I shouldn't be shocked. There are always risks involved with the treatment, but you had held out quite fine in the past few days."  
  


  
"What are you talking about?" Sydney asked, her stomach dropping when she caught sight of the doctor's worried face.  
  


  
"Sydney, what year is it?"   
  


  
Sydney was taken aback by the question. It wasn't possible for her to have lost another two years of her life, was it? "It's 2005."  
  


  
The doctor sighed even louder this time. "No Sydney. No, it's 2003."   
  


  
Sydney stared at the doctor. Her mind couldn't even comprehend what she was being told. "No it's not. This is a joke. A sick, twisted joke. You can't tell me that I lost two years of my life and then suddenly I haven't lost them. It's not possible." She stood up and began to pace.   
  


  
_What if Vaughn was lying? What if he was Covenant? What if they all were Covenant? What if this was all a dream?_  
  


  
She pinched herself, trying to wake herself up.  
  


  
The doctor stood, placing her hands on Sydney's upper arms. "What I'm going to tell you is painful, Sydney. Why don't you sit down?"  
  


  
Sydney threw Dr. Walters's hands off her arms like they were acid. "No. You're one of them, aren't you? You're trying to break me. Who do you work for?"  
  


  
The doctor did not seem fazed. "Sydney, settle down or I'll need to call security. Please have a seat and I'll explain to you everything you need to know."  
  


  
"Who are you working for?" Sydney shouted, ignoring the doctor's requests. "Are you working for Sloane? Allison? Sark? Who?"  
  


  
"None of those people even exist," the doctor stated calmly, disregarding Sydney's shouts.   
  


  
Sydney whipped her head around from where she had been searching the desk for any clues as to who the doctor worked for. "What did you say?" she asked weakly.  
  


  
"Sydney, sit down, and I'll tell you. Please just calm down," Dr. Walters replied, gesturing to the couch Sydney had sat on before.  
  


  
Sydney sat down, barely aware of anything but the thoughts running through her head.   
  


  
_How could they not exist?_  
  


  
"What do you mean they don't exist?" Sydney whispered.  
  


  
The doctor took Sydney's hands into her own. "You're suffering from a disorder, Sydney. A powerful, powerful disorder that is telling you to believe things that aren't true."  
  


  
"What do you mean?"  
  


  
"Sydney, you have dissociative identity disorder. It's a mental disorder that affects those who have been through terrible psychological trauma, but with treatment, you can overcome it. That's why you're here, Sydney. We're here to help you overcome your disorder."  
  


  
"I don't know what you mean. How… how could I have this disorder?"  
  


  
The doctor squeezed her hands. "When you were little, Sydney, so many terrible things happened to you. And when children are traumatized, sometimes they try to take a vacation in their mind. Get away from everything they can't get away from in real life. That's what happened to you, Sydney. That's why you're here."  
  


  
"But I don't understand. Nothing happened to me when I was little that would make me go crazy. I dealt with everything that I was handed. I'm okay!"   
  


  
"That's what your mind wants you to believe. Your mind made up this altered state to make you feel okay. Before your dissociative split you were scared, Sydney, scared and unhappy. You were petrified to go home. And then you began to dream. You dreamed that all of the terrible things that happened to you were part of this dream world. They made sense there. Delusions, Sydney, that's all they were. Delusions that made you feel better inside. The CIA, your enemies, SD-6. It was all a delusion."  
  


  
Sydney's hands were shaking and she could feel her eyes well with tears. "All of this… all of it is a lie?"  
  


  
The doctor tried to meet Sydney's shifting eyes. "A lot of it is, Sydney, but I'm here to help you find the truth in all of the lies and dreams in your head. All you have to do is let me help you."  
  


  
Sydney felt dizzy. "It's all a lie?"  
  


  
"You've had a long day, Sydney. Why don't you come back tomorrow at this same time and we'll talk about the truth?"  
  


  
Sydney nodded remotely. She could barely make out the doctor calling Anne to get her, or the doctor rubbing her hands on Sydney's back until Anne showed up.  
  


  
The rest of the night and the following day was a blur. She hardly touched her breakfast, hardly paid attention when Melanie asked her what was wrong, hardly cared when someone asked her if she was going to water her flowers. All she cared about was getting back to the doctor's office and learning more. A part of her warned her that this could all be an elaborate setup, but part of her believed that perhaps the doctor was true.  
  


  
Somehow, she found herself standing in front of room 162 again, waiting for the door to open. Waiting to find out who she was.  
  


  
Dr. Walters opened the door and gave Sydney a small smile, leading her to the couch. "How are you feeling today?"  
  


  
"Terrible," Sydney answered truthfully. "Not only can I not remember where I am, I can't remember who I am."  
  


  
"Well, the amnesia should wear off within the week; the electroshock didn't last long."  
  


  
"Electroshock?" Sydney asked, surprised.  
  


  
"Electroshock in dissociative disorders is rare, yes, but your case is one of the most severe I have ever seen. We had been getting positive results, but it appears we're back to stage one again."  
  


  
"How long have I been here?"  
  


  
The doctor glanced up at a calendar on the wall. "You've been here for almost two months. A month and twenty six days, if you want to be exact."  
  


  
"Is that when this all started? Two months ago?"  
  


  
Dr. Walters laughed slightly. "No Sydney. This all started when you were a small child, probably three or four. But you were diagnosed two months ago."  
  


  
Sydney stared at a spot on the floor. She had to put all of her faith in the doctor to get answers, to find out who she was, and to find what happened to her. "What happened to me as a child to bring it on?"   
  


  
"I can't just tell you about yourself, Sydney. You have to remember all on your own. But I can help you remember by putting you through hypnotherapy, if you agree to it. The procedure is relatively simple, we'll put you in a state such as that of watching a movie or reading a book. You're awake, but not alert to all the stimuli around you…"  
  


  
"I'm aware of the procedure, doctor," interjected Sydney.  
  


  
"Ahh… yes, you probably are. Would you be willing to undergo hypnosis, knowing that you risk extremely terrifying nightmares and daydreams?"  
  


  
"Of course I would," Sydney agreed.  
  


  
Dr. Walters smiled brightly. "We can begin immediately, if you wish. All we have to do is get you nice and comfortable in this chair and get you hooked up to the EEG."  
  


  
Sydney moved to the chair the doctor had gestured to and sat back in it. The material sucked her in and she was immediately soothed. Dr. Walters placed several electrodes on her head and turned on the machine and her computer. She began to talk to Sydney soothingly, telling her that she was free of worries and concerns. She was weightless.  
  


  
And suddenly she was.  
  


  
"Sydney, can you hear me?"  
  


  
The doctor's voice rang in her head, somewhere distant but yet close enough. "Yes, I can."  
  


  
"Okay Sydney, I want you to think back a long time ago. Your fifth birthday. Can you do that?"  
  


  
Suddenly images filled her mind.   
  


  
_"Syddy, open my gift first!"  
  
_

_  
"No mine! It's got a big red bow!"  
  
_

_  
__Sydney__ smiled and looked down at the mound of presents with glee. Pink, purple, green, red. There were so many colors. She looked up to her mother. "Which one first, Mommy?"  
  
_

_  
Her mother gave her a bright smile. "Why don't you start with the one closest to you? That way it's fair to everyone."_  
  


  
"What do you remember of that day, Sydney?"  
  


  
"We were at the park; it was a sunny and warm day. All of my friends were there and we played hide and go seek for hours."  
  


  
"That's not the truth though, Sydney. Try to think back to what really happened. Try to find a clue in your surroundings that will lead you to the truth."  
  


  
Sydney's eyes scanned her dream for something that seemed out of place. And then suddenly she noticed it. Bright and purple, it stood out like a sore thumb on her mother's pale skin. A bruise, the size of a fist.  
  


  
Unexpectedly, the dream started to fade out and was replaced with another fantasy.   
  


  
_"Where the fuck is my meal, Laura? I come home from work and all I ask for is a measly meal and you couldn't find the time to make it?" her father roared.  
  
_

_  
"Jack, it was __Sydney__'s birthday. I took her to the park to celebrate and we lost track of time. Go and sit down and I'll have it out to you in a minute," Laura replied, trying to calm her husband.  
  
_

_  
"Damn you, bitch!" Jack barked, slamming his wife against the wall. Sydney took her Barbie and scooted back into her room, closing her eyes and humming to herself. She heard the sound of her father's hand snapping against her mother's cheek and closed her eyes even harder. She wasn't here. They were in the park, eating cake and laughing. Christy and Elizabeth were there too. "Don't you dare tell me what to fucking do! It will be a cold day in hell before I start taking orders from you."_  
  


  
"Sydney, are you okay?"  
  


  
Sydney could feel the tears running down her face, but couldn't do anything to stop them. "He hit her. My dad hit my mom."  
  


  
"It's okay, Sydney. This is all part of the process. It's hard to start remembering, but you'll be so much happier when you know the truth. You won't feel so torn anymore, you'll feel whole. Now, I can understand if you'd like to quit. I know this is a lot to take in."  
  


  
"No… no, I need to know what happened," Sydney could hear herself saying.  
  


  
"How about we try to think about the day that your mother died?" Dr. Walters suggested.  
  


  
_Sydney__ woke up early, sensing something was wrong. She opened her door and crept out, leaning over the banister to see her nanny crying on the couch.   
  
_

_  
She flew down the stairs. "What's wrong, Carolyn?"  
  
_

_  
Her nanny closed her eyes and gave her a weak smile. "Something sad happened, little one, but its okay."  
  
_

_  
She leaned in to give Carolyn a hug when she felt a presence behind her.   
  
_

_  
"__Sydney__, may I speak to you in my office?" her father asked.   
  
_

_  
She was surprised, of course, that her father was home in the middle of the day on a Saturday. Whatever that had happened must have been horrible for her father to take a day off of work.  
  
_

_  
Sydney cuddled into one of the large chairs in her father's office, glancing around, trying not to meet her father's eyes. She had a feeling that whatever the news was, she did not want to hear it.  
  
_

_  
"__Sydney__, there was an accident. Your mother," he choked out, "didn't make it."  
  
_

_  
She sat there, dumbfounded. It wasn't until she felt her father's strong arms wrap around her own in a hug that she realized what he had said. And then she felt the tears flow._  
  


  
Sydney began to sniffle, trying to keep in her tears in. She had to be strong to find out what had happened.  
  


  
"Its okay, Sydney. Nothing can hurt you, this all happened in the past. Now, look around for a clue to unlock the truth. Anything out of the ordinary could be a clue."  
  


  
Her eyes began to move under her eyelids, searching the memories in front of her. She looked down at her father's skin, hoping to find a bruise that might lead her to reality, but there was none. However, as she followed his arms down, she noticed how tightly they were gripping her own arms.  
  


  
_Suddenly, __Sydney__ found herself pinned against a wall, her father's arms gripping her tightly and pressing her even harder against the wall.  
  
_

_  
"This is all your fault, you brat. If you hadn't have ripped your pants like an idiot your mother would have never gone out tonight."  
  
_

_  
"Daddy," __Sydney__ cried. "Daddy, let go of me! You're hurting me."  
  
_

_  
"You hurt me too. You killed your mother," Jack spat.  
  
_

_  
"No I didn't, Daddy. It was an accident! I swear I didn't do it. You weren't here when the police came, they said it was an accident."  
  
_

_  
Jack shoved her back hard, her head making a loud cracking noise when it hit the wall. "Don't you dare argue with me, girl." He grabbed the beer sitting on the kitchen table and sat down on the couch, as if nothing had happened.   
  
_

_  
As soon as she knew he couldn't see her, __Sydney__ fell to the floor quietly sobbing._  
  


  
"What do you see?" Dr. Walters asked softly.  
  


  
"My dad blamed my mother's death on me. He said it was my fault and slammed me against the wall," Sydney stated. She was sobbing, just as she had been in her dream. Her dream of reality.  
  


  
"I'm going to bring you back, Sydney. You've had all you can handle with today."  
  


  
When Sydney awoke from her trance-like state she had only one question for Dr. Walters. "I didn't kill her, did I?"  
  


  
The doctor gave her a sad smile. "No you didn't. You loved your mother very much, Sydney. Very, very much."  
  


  
Sydney found herself very tired after her hypnotherapy treatment, even though she had been almost asleep during it all. After getting her tears dried and being tucked in to her bed by Melanie, she fell fast asleep.  
  


  
_"Mommy, where is Daddy?" a young __Sydney__ asked.   
  
_

_  
"He's at a friend's house, baby. Come make the bread with me," her mother replied, ripping off a portion of the dough she was kneading and setting it down in front of the step stool.  
  
_

_  
"But he was at a friend's house yesterday! I want to show him the picture I made at school," __Sydney__ whined. "How come he's always gone?"  
  
_

_  
Her mother smeared some of the flour on her face. "There… now don't you look like the little baker."  
  
_

_  
"He's always at sleepovers," she stated, oblivious to her mother's attempts to change the subject.   
  
_

_  
"Not always at sleepovers, baby girl."_  
  


  
--  
  


  
_"Sydney, I'd like for you to stay in for recess today, okay?"__ Miss Nolan said.  
  
_

_  
Several students in front of __Sydney__ turned to stare at her.   
  
_

_  
"Sydney's in trouble, Sydney's in trouble," Kevin said in a sing-song voice. Sydney blushed and looked down, trying to concentrate on her math workbook.   
  
_

_  
"No, Kevin, __Sydney__'s not in trouble. Now, go get your coats on and line up at the door," her teacher replied. The other students cheerfully packed up their work and bundled into their coats, looking eagerly at their teacher. At her signal, they ran outside to join the other second graders on the playground. __Sydney__ kept her head bent down and continued to work.  
  
_

_  
"Sydney, sweetheart, I know it's been tough since your mother passed away. Is there anything you want to talk about?" the teacher asked, tilting __Sydney__'s head up so that her eyes met the teacher's.  
  
_

_  
__Sydney__ shook her head. "No, thank you, Miss Nolan. I'm okay."  
  
_

_  
Miss Nolan gave her a half smile. "The reason I ask is because I've noticed you have a lot of bruises on your arm. Is everything okay at home?"  
  
_

_  
She looked down to the large bruises on her arms and quickly rolled down her sleeves. "I just fell down the stairs. It's okay."  
  
_

_  
The teacher searched her eyes. "You know its okay to tell me if something isn't wrong. You're not going to get in trouble."  
  
_

_  
"I promise, nothing is wrong."_  
  


  
--  
  


  
"So, did you have any nightmares since we met last week? The first two hypnotherapy sessions usually create the most nightmares.   
  


  
She shook her head. "Not nightmares. I had dreams. Memories, I assume, of when I was little. Making bread with my mom and a day at school when I was in second grade."  
  


  
"Did everything in your dreams seem to be real? There weren't any people who seemed inhuman or colors that stood out of place?"  
  


  
Sydney glanced over to the bookshelf, looking at the titles. "No, there weren't." Her eyes flashed back to Dr. Walters's. "He was cheating on her, wasn't he? I mean it'd make sense, he was abusive, probably alcoholic. Why not be an adulterer, too?"  
  


  
Dr. Walters nodded. "From what information we've gathered from your treatments before your memory loss, yes, he was."  
  


  
"I just don't understand, you know? How could I be so stupid as to think… to think that my father was a hero that he wasn't?"  
  


  
Dr. Walters stood up and took a seat next to Sydney. "You weren't being stupid. You were doing the only thing a child can do in a situation like that. Imagining. You were imagining a better place where you weren't so helpless."  
  


  
Sydney's head bobbed a bit.   
  


  
"Your father wasn't home much when you were a child, and it was the height of the Cold War. What child hadn't heard about spies? You simply imagined that your father was a spy, that when he was gone he was protecting the world, something he couldn't do for either you or your mother."  
  


  
"I suppose."  
  


  
The doctor gave her a smile. "You ready to see what else we can find out?"  
  


  
--  
  


  
_"Dad?__ DAD?" __Sydney__ shouted, walking into her house.  
  
_

_  
"Shut the fuck up! What the hell are you trying to do, wake the dead?" her father mumbled, stumbling out of his chair.  
  
_

_  
__Sydney__ gave him a look of disdain. "You've been home drinking all day?"  
  
_

_  
"So what if I have?" he asked, walking a jagged line to the refrigerator and grabbing two more beers.  
  
_

_  
She grabbed the beers out of his hands easily. "You're going to kill yourself if you don't stop. You're already completely smashed."  
  
_

_  
Her father aimed a slap at her face, but hit only air. "Give those back to me, bitch. When you're an adult, you can tell me what to do. But until then it's my house and you live by my rules.   
  
_

_  
"Trust me; I'm the only adult here. Go sit down and I'll make your dinner."  
  
_

_  
This time his palm made contact with the side of her face, leaving the room to ring in the sound of its crack.  
  
_

_  
__Sydney__ glared at him. "I'm going out with Francie and Josh. It's my birthday and I'm not going to slave over a drunk."  
  
_

_  
Jack's face turned even darker red in fury. "You leave this house and you will never come back!"  
  
_

_  
She stared at him in shock. She turned 16 today and he was throwing her out? "What?"  
  
_

_  
"Don't you dare question my authority. If you leave this house, you leave forever," he snarled.   
  
_

_  
"Fine."_  
  


  
--  
  


  
_Neon red lights lit up the side of the building. **Marty's Diner**.   
  
_

_  
"It's not your fault that all the guys you date are complete jerks. Maybe you're like genetically drawn to them, you know? Like your mom dated a s*** guy, you've dated two… maybe it runs in your family," Francie said.  
  
_

_  
"I don't think dating the wrong guy runs in the family. That's like hemophilia or whatever. I think dating the wrong guys comes from me being an idiot or something," __Sydney__ sighed, intensely swirling her coffee.  
  
_

_  
"You're not an idiot, Sydney."  
  
_

_  
"I feel like it," __Sydney__ said, glancing down at her watch. Five more minutes of break. She looked back up at Francie's face. Behind Francie, however, was what really caught her eye. In the door had walked the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on.   
  
_

_  
"It's not like you could help the fact that both Noah and Danny dumped you in the most incredibly lame way ever. They're just…" Francie hushed when she saw the look on Sydney's face. "What?"  
  
_

_  
"Oh my God. This guy just walked in and he's absolutely adorable!"  
  
_

_  
Francie rolled her eyes. "You were just crying over Danny like two seconds ago and now you're into someone else. God Sydney, you are such a whore!"  
  
_

_  
__Sydney__ laughed, if there was anyone in the world who could cheer her up it was Francie. "No seriously. He has sandy blonde hair and he's tall. And he's wearing a hockey jersey." __Sydney__ watched as Francie started to turn around. "No! Don't look! Then he'll know that we're looking at him."  
  
_

_  
Francie ignored her pleading look and turned around. "You have to go talk to him, Sydney!"_  
  


  
--  
  


  
Dr. Walters rubbed Sydney's temples as she removed the EEG electrodes from her head. "I have to warn you, Sydney, from now on, your treatment could be very erratic. The last few attempts we tried to regain your memories of the most recent years, we were met with heavy resistance. Now that we know electroshock therapy doesn't work, we will have to think of other routes."  
  


  
"What do you have in mind?"  
  


  
"There's a possibility that we may have you revisit key locations and people of your life, to see if that sparks any of your memories."  
  


  
"Can that really work?" Sydney asked.   
  


  
"With your case, it's hard to tell. But it can't hurt to try," Dr. Walters replied. "I know you've been spending a lot of time in your room because most of your privileges have been suspended. After thinking about it, I see no harm in your continuing as normal. Starting tomorrow, you'll be allowed to visit any room on the first floor."  
  


  
Sydney smiled. "Thank you, doctor." She got out of the chair slowly and rubbed her legs, trying to get the dull ache out of them. "I suppose I'll go to bed now."  
  


  
Dr. Walters gave her a quick hug. "Goodnight, Sydney."  
  


  
--  
  


  
Sydney listened to the nurses' heels click on the tile outside her room.  
  


  
_One.__ Two. Three. Four._  
  


  
Sydney waited for a few seconds before quietly getting out of her bed and opening the door. The quiet creak it emitted made Sydney look back at Melanie, making sure she was still asleep. She then slipped out into the hallway and made her way to the game room.   
  


  
She hadn't believed a word the so-called doctor had said. It was all an elaborate plan, she had concluded. A complex plan they were using to break her down, to make her their robot. But she wouldn't be fooled. It was obvious that they had planted the ideas into her head, probably using video footage of another girl who looked similar to her, and then knocked her out hard enough to make her forget. And then they had simply told her a phony story of a mental disorder to make her believe that the thoughts she was thinking were memories of her life, not memories of a video they had shown her a week ago.  
  


  
And now she was getting out. She had spent the past few weeks playing the part of an unaware victim, pretending to believe the things she saw. She used tears to her advantage. But that was all going to end.   
  


  
She slipped into the game room undetected, and quietly shut the door. She made her way to where several phone booths had been set up in a conjoining room and picked up the receiver, dialing a number she knew by heart.   
  


  
"Hello?" a woman's voice said.  
  


  
"This is officer 2300844, calling for connection. Confirmation: looking glass," Sydney repeated, much like she had when she had woken up in Hong Kong.  
  


  
"Excuse me… what? I think you have the wrong number," the woman replied, her voice conveying her confusedness.  
  


  
"Oh… I'm sorry. I must have hit the wrong number," Sydney said, just as confused as the woman. She was positive she had dialed the right number. She redialed the number, but when the same woman answered the phone again, she slammed it down.   
  


  
Frustrated, Sydney dialed her father's number instead.   
  


  
"Hola, Vega residence," a young voice said, clearly woken from his sleep.  
  


  
Sydney sighed, angered that none of the numbers she had tried were working. "I'm sorry, I have the wrong number." She hung up the phone again, exasperated. Apparently, she had been held for a little longer than she had first estimated.  
  


  
Desperate, Sydney picked up the phone again and dialed Vaughn's number. The phone rang several times before the answering machine picked up.   
  


  
"Hello, you've reached the Vaughn residence. Please leave your name and number and we'll get back to you just as soon as possible."  
  


  
Sydney stared at the phone in shock. Her voice had been on Vaughn's answering machine. Her voice. On Vaughn's answering machine, in the most domestic way possible. Implying that she herself was part of the Vaughn family.   
  


  
Hearing the phone start to buzz loudly, she hung it up and slipped back out of the room. Taking off, she ran through the maze of corridors, trying to make it to the exit she had spotted several days ago.   
  


  
She came to an end of a hallway and glanced around, making sure no one had heard her and was coming to check up. Praying that no one was in the room that connected to the hallway, she opened the door.   
  


  
The bright lights shocked her eyes, compared to the dim hallways.   
  


  
"Miss Bristow, are you going anywhere?" a nurse asked, looking up from the nurses' station.  
  


  
Sydney blinked her eyes several times. "I… uhh… I had a nightmare. Where am I?" she asked, feigning confusion.   
  


  
"I was alerted that you might try to make an escape attempt. Let me call up another nurse to walk you back to your room," she said, pointing to a chair. "Have a seat, dear."  
  


  
--  
  


  
_"You fucking bitch," someone said, a stinging slap crossing her cheek.  
  
  
_

_"I didn't cheat on you, I swear. You were gone so we went out to dinner. I swear," she pleaded. Her head slammed against the refrigerator.  
  
_

_  
"You think I believe your lies? You cheating little whore. I should have never married you."  
  
_

_  
"I promise. I swear. I would never lie to you, about anything. We only had dinner. As friends."  
  
_

_  
"And you had to wait until I was gone before you could go out with him? You went behind my back."   
  
_

_  
"No Michael. It was just convenient. I know you don't like Will," Sydney gasped, as his hand went to her throat. He gave a harsh squeeze and then let go, aiming a punch to her cheek._  
  


  
--  
  


  
_"Please God, Michael. Put it down," she pleaded.  
  
_

_  
He kept the gun aimed at her head. "You think you can leave? Just like that?"  
  
_

_  
Tears and blood were streaming down her face. "Michael, baby, put it down. I won't leave, I promise. Don't worry about it. I was just upset, baby. I won't leave you. It's okay. Just put the gun down," she choked out.  
  
_

_  
"You think saying all that will erase it? You think it will make it better, saying you're sorry? You cheated on me, and now you're trying to leave. You think I'll let you out, just like that? You're the one who brought this on, you," he shouted.  
  
_

_  
She ducked as Michael grabbed another wine glass and aimed it at her head. "I love you, baby. Don't do this," she screamed, her voice strangled from sobs.  
  
_

_  
He pulled the trigger. "Goodbye, bitch."_  
  


  
Sydney awoke sobbing. It took her several seconds to wipe away the tears from her eyes, and several more to realize she was back in the white room. She must have fallen asleep while waiting for the nurse.   
  


  
Suddenly, she became aware of another presence in the room. Once she spotted Dr. Walters, the doctor came over and sat on the edge of Sydney's bed and wiped away the trails the tears had made.  
  


  
"I assume you've remembered," she said softly, giving Sydney a sad smile.  
  


  
Sydney took several calming breaths. "Please, please tell me it wasn't true."  
  


  
The doctor pushed a loose strand of hair out of Sydney's face. "I'm so sorry, Sydney."  
  


  
She sat up straight. "I don't believe you. Vaughn… Michael would never do that."  
  


  
"I didn't think you would. I know this has to be excruciating, seeing all of these memories and not knowing whether to believe them or not. I've scheduled a visit, if you want, to prove to you the truth of everything I've said and everything you've remembered."  
  


  
She looked at Dr. Walters for a moment, trying to keep from hiccupping. "What do you mean?"  
  


  
"I can take you to see your husband, if that will help."  
  


  
--  
  


  
Sydney sat in the car and stared out the window, watching the rain make rivers along it. She didn't want to turn and look ahead; she knew they were getting close to the penitentiary.   
  


  
She kept her eyes trained to the floor as they made their way in, hardly lifting her hand when the officer asked to get her fingerprints. She sat next to Dr. Walters in the waiting room before they were buzzed in.  
  


  
Sydney only lifted her eyes for a second when they entered the room, a flash of extreme pain passing over them when she recognized the man behind the glass. She had stopped walking, standing at the door and blocking Dr. Walters's entrance.   
  


  
"You can do it, Sydney," Dr. Walters whispered behind her.  
  


  
With that, she walked forward a few steps, until she was directly in front of Michael Vaughn.   
  


  
"You tried to kill me," she stated to the floor.  
  


  
She didn't receive a reply.  
  


  
"My father beat my mother. She's dead. And you tried to kill me."  
  


  
This time she got a grunt.  
  


  
She burst into tears. "It was all a dream, wasn't it?" she asked, turning to Dr. Walters.   
  
  


Dr. Walters gave a small nod.  
  
  


Sydney fell down against the wall sobbing.   
  
  


_Go to my room and I close my eyes  
I make believe I have a new life  
I don't believe you when you say  
Everything will be wonderful some day_


End file.
